


to repay

by thisissirius



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8706583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: “On the bed,” Aaron growls out instead, releasing his hold on Robert’s hair. 

  "Aaron—”
Aaron leans down, bites at the curve of Robert’s ear. “You can make it up to me my way.”robert makes it up to aaron.





	

**Author's Note:**

> because i had a lot of feelings, apparently, yesterday. and because jen and @hpcharmed were both determined to see porn happen. 
> 
> this is what twitter does to you, folks!
> 
> thank you SO MUCH to jen for reading this over :D

Aaron always looks good, no matter what he’s wearing, and Robert’s never not going to want him.

Trackie bottoms, hoodies, jeans, bundled up to the fucking nines in the winter; there’s something about _Aaron_ that makes Robert’s chest clench painfully, his heart skip a beat, makes his dick stir. Robert just _wants_.

A suit, though.

Aaron in the shirt, jacket, slacks —

Robert wants to peel everything off slowly, layer by fucking layer, until Aaron’s spread out underneath him, mouth curved into a grin, hips grinding up against Robert, because Aaron knows what he’s doing, gets under Robert’s skin like nobody else.

Aaron leads Robert up the stairs, and Robert presses his tongue to the roof his mouth at the sight of Aaron’s trousers tight around his arse, hugging every curve. Aaron snorts, the only sign that he knows what he’s doing to Robert, the arsehole, before Robert tucks a hand in the waist of Aaron’s slacks, brushes his fingertips against the dip of Aaron’s spine. Aaron’s chuckle turns into a grunt and at the top of the landing he whirls, hauls Robert up the last two steps.

Robert grins against Aaron’s mouth, resting his hands on Aaron’s hips. The kiss is hard, heated, and Robert shoves, presses Aaron against the wall outside of their room. It’s nothing like the kiss downstairs; it’s a promise of _more_ and _please_ and _come the fuck on_. Aaron spins them round, kicks open their bedroom door. It’s never shut  properly, and Robert’s sure they’re going to trip over something on the way to the bed, but they’re practiced at this too.

Aaron tugs at Robert’s shirt, pulls it from the waist of his trousers and undoes it slowly. Robert lets him, content to undress as long as Aaron keeps his suit on for longer. Every line of it against Aaron’s body, every press of fabric under Robert’s touch drives him on, makes him _want_. Aaron shoves shirt and jacket off of Robert’s shoulders, lets it drop to the floor in a heap.

“Fuck,” Aaron bites out, teeth raking Robert’s bottom lip. Robert arches into the hands Aaron presses to his stomach, slides beneath his waistband. He deftly undoes the fly, pushes Robert’s trousers and briefs down over his hips, and the cold air causes delicious relief against Robert’s heated dick. 

Robert whines, low in his throat, unashamed at the noises Aaron punches from him, the way Aaron makes him feel. Aaron pulls away, but Robert keeps his grip on the lapels of Aaron’s jacket, ducks in to press a kiss to Aaron’s mouth. “Wait.”

Aaron’s still smiling, but there’s a question on his face. Robert doesn’t answer, won’t need to, not with the way he nuzzles at Aaron’s jaw, licks a stripe over Aaron’s stubble as he whispers, “Keep it on,” in a low, dirty whisper.

They’re close enough that Robert hears Aaron’s breath hitch, the clumsy way he slides his fingers against Robert’s dick.

“Oh fuck.” Robert bites down against Aaron’s jaw, runs his fingers over the material of Aaron’s jacket.

“What’s the point if ya not looking at me?” Aaron says, unashamedly, and fuck if that doesn’t spur Robert on more. It’s like all the walls drop in the safety of their bedroom. They can be open, _real_ , here where nobody else is allowed without invitation. Robert can whisper everything he wants to against Aaron’s lips, his face, the curve of his neck. Aaron can be unashamed, daring, and ask for everything he knows Robert wants to give it, does.

“I love you,” Robert says, pulling back enough to look Aaron in the eyes.

Aaron’s smile turns soft, but no less heated, as he backs them up towards the bed. Robert drops to his knees before they get there, keeps Aaron right where he wants him with a vice-like grip on his hips. “What are you doing?”

Robert grins, licks the corner of his mouth. “Making it up to you.”

Aaron says nothing as Robert pops the button on Aaron’s trousers, drags the fly down painfully slow. The outline of Aaron’s dick is obvious against the press of Robert’s fingers. It’s making Robert’s mouth water just thinking about it, can’t help but palm Aaron through the material before pulling the waistband of Aaron’s pants down over his cock.

Cursing, Aaron threads a hand through Robert’s hair, pushes gently. Robert’s spent months, years, learning the nuances of everything Aaron does. He knows every tug, every grunt, every whisper. He knows that if he looks up through his lashes _just so,_ Aaron makes a noise in the back of his throat. Knows that if he runs his fingers feather light up the shaft of Aaron’s cock, Aaron’s knee will jerk. Knows that if he breathes slow, right on the head of Aaron’s dick, that Aaron will grip his hair painfully tight and pull until Robert’s mouth takes him deep and —

— Robert breathes through his nose, twists his fingers into the fabric of Aaron’s trousers.

Aaron’s making deep, throaty noises, Robert’s name falling like a curse. Robert’s tongue presses heavy against the base of Aaron’s cock, saliva coating the shaft as Robert pulls back slowly. Aaron wants it fast, asks for it with every pull of Robert’s hair, the breathy, “Yeah,” as Robert picks up the pace, fingers twitching against Aaron’s hips. Robert likes it best when he goes slow; likes the way Aaron will whine, how hard he finds it to keep standing, the soft way he’ll say Robert’s name, a touch of begging. 

Robert gives, he’ll always give, and he presses forward, nuzzles the dusty hair at the base of Aaron’s cock. Aaron’s free hand brushes against his face, presses against the cock obvious in Robert's mouth. Robert wants to palm himself, wants to watch Aaron’s face while he does.

“No,” Aaron says, when Robert drops his hand. His eyes are black, his lips red and swollen from biting. Robert grunts, has to grip Aaron’s hip when the vibrations make his knee give out. Robert keeps him up, mouth tight around Aaron’s dick, and Aaron bends down, grips Robert’s hair tight.

Aaron knows Robert;

He pulls until the pain is just the right side of _too much_ and Robert’s desperate to touch his dick. Aaron fucks his mouth, Robert’s fingers clenched around Aaron’s trousers, trying to breathe through his nose. Looking up, Robert’s body thrums with heat and want; Aaron’s shirt is open at the neck, exposing the delicious curve of his collarbone. His eyes are dark and open, his mouth begging to be kissed. His shoulders fill out the suit jacket in ways Robert will never get enough of, and Robert knows the things he’d be saying, filthy and desperate, if his mouth wasn’t wrapped around Aaron’s dick.

“You’re fucking—” Aaron cuts himself off, presses his thumb against the line of his dick in Robert’s mouth. Robert whines, wants to touch himself, wants _Aaron_. He relaxes his throat, takes Aaron deep, slides a hand up under Aaron’s shirt. “ _Rob_.”

Robert breathes, closes his eyes against the heat of Aaron’s gaze, and pulls back. Robert's sucked Aaron off more times than he cares to admit, but it never feels the same, every time is new, perfect; he craves Aaron in ways he can’t remember ever wanting anyone else.

Aaron’s fingers tighten in his hair, tug him forward and Robert goes willingly, lets Aaron take over the pace. He’s pliant and easy under Aaron’s grip, knows that the sooner Aaron comes, the sooner he can get off and they’ll —

Aaron pulls Robert off his dick, Robert sucking in a lungful of air and blinking rapidly. Aaron would look ridiculous under any other circumstances; his dick bobbing against the curve of his stomach, smearing cum against his shirt, saliva coating the head and shaft. Robert _wants_.

“Thought you were making it up to me?” Aaron says, thumb teasing Robert’s bottom lip.

Robert whines, nods as much as he’s able against the hold Aaron has on his hair.

“Worry about me getting off, then, and not you,” Aaron says, conversationally, like they’re talking about the fucking weather. Robert’s too turned on to be embarrassed by the way his cock leaks, the fact that he can’t tear his eyes away from the expression on Aaron’s face; eyebrow raised, lips quirking up into a grin, and he ducks down, hauls Robert up for a kiss. It’s bruising, desperate, and Robert’s fingers find their way to Aaron’s neck, sliding up into his hair. The angle is awkward for them both, and Aaron’s grip in his hair is tight and painful, but Robert doesn’t care.

“I am,” Robert says, throat raw. Aaron lets him drop slightly, and Robert noses at the shaft of Aaron’s dick, licks at the crown. “Aaron, I—”

“On the bed,” Aaron growls out instead, releasing his hold on Robert’s hair.

“Aaron—”

Aaron leans down, bites at the curve of Robert’s ear. “You can make it up to me _my_ way.”

Sex between them is always new, always different, and Robert’s never afraid that they’ll get boring. The fact that Aaron has a demanding edge, can take control with such vehemence isn’t a surprise, and it’s not the first time. His cock is almost painfully hard, red and angry as he stands, and Aaron’s eyes linger. Robert backs up, knees hitting the bed, but before he can sit, Aaron wraps his hand around Robert’s dick. The noise Robert makes echoes loud in the room, and he feels a flush of heat through his body. He thrusts into Aaron’s grip, hands clutching weakly at Aaron’s shoulders.

Aaron’s still wearing his suit, trousers low on his hips, cock free, the shirt rumpled and wet. Robert feels a flush of _something_ at the fact that he’s naked, heated skin brushing _just so_ against the fabric of Aaron’s clothes. He feels undone, desperate.

Aaron’s watching, eyes dragging slow and torturous over Robert’s dick, chest, face. Robert blinks, hips still rolling gently against Aaron’s hand, desperate for friction.

The silence prickles Robert’s skin, makes him want to say something, _anything_ , if it will get Aaron talking, cursing, whining. He opens his mouth, shuts it again at the warning bite of Aaron’s teeth against his jaw.

Aaron’s fingers fall away from Robert’s dick and he sucks in a breath, needy. He’s pliant under Aaron’s hands, lets himself be pushed down onto the bed, manhandled until he’s sinking into familiar sheets, surrounding by the smell of Aaron, the press of Aaron’s body against his own. The fabric of his trousers drags perfectly against Robert’s dick and Robert arches into it, fingers fisting around the duvet.

“Look at ya,” Aaron says, voice low. His fingers tease feather light against Robert’s shaft, brush against his balls.

Robert’s breath is punched from his chest, and he doesn’t know what he says, how he says it, only that it makes Aaron’s grin widen. There’s a press of a thumb against the skin behind Robert’s balls, _so fucking close_ and Robert wants it, spreads his legs a little wider if Aaron would only just —

“All about you,” Aaron says, an amused lilt to his tone. He ducks in for a kiss, all heat and wet, and Robert wants nothing more than to give Aaron whatever he asks for. He shakes his head, denies, but Aaron doesn’t look mad. “Maybe I’ll make you wait.”

It’s a promise he’s made more than once, and Robert wants to come, wants _Aaron_ to come, and it doesn’t matter how it happens, only that it _does_.

Robert can’t make his mouth work, not with Aaron’s fingers back on his dick, jerking him off too slow to do anything, but enough that Robert’s nerve endings are on fire.

“Bet nobody’s seen you like this,” Aaron says, fierce and angry, and it’s the only sign he’s bothered by what’s happened. It’s not enough to flag Robert’s erection, or to shock him out of his arousal; Aaron’s anger is formidable, as intoxicating as the rest of him, and when he’s looking at Robert with an expression like _that —_ _“_ This is all mine _._ _”_

Robert wants to agree, _I_ _’m all yours_ on the tip of his tongue, but then Aaron’s mouth is on his chest, teeth teasing the nub of a nipple and fuck, _fuck_ , they’re hardwired to his dick or something because he’s consumed with fire, with need, and he wants to fuck Aaron, for Aaron to fuck him, and he can’t —

“Easy,” Aaron says, slipping as effortlessly into calm as he does angry, as easily as he does heated. Robert doesn’t know how he got this lucky, how he gets to have this, keep this. Losing Aaron isn’t an option. “Hey.”

Aaron draws him back to the present with a twist of his wrist, drives Robert’s heels into the mattress as he arches into Aaron’s grip, the gentle rake of fingernails over Robert’s shaft. It’s the kind of _almost pain_ Robert likes and he wants Aaron to fuck him already.

Aaron’s grin is obvious as he leans over to the bedside table, pulls open the drawer. His jacket falls open, collarbone exposed and _right there_ and Robert can’t tear his eyes away. He’s still looking when Aaron drops the lube and condom by his ear. He leans in, lips brushing against Robert’s ear. “You don’t come until I tell you that you can.”

Robert’s so hard it’s painful. He blinks hazily up as Aaron pulls back enough to look him in the eye. There’s a press of Aaron’s thumb to Robert’s lip, the rake of his fingernails gently down Robert’s chest. Robert swallows, grips the sheets tight as Aaron’s straddles Robert’s hips, rocks back on his ankles. He’s still dressed, making Robert feel hot and desperate, and he’s painfully close to Robert’s dick but not touching it. Robert raises an eyebrow pointedly, wonders at the wolfish grin on Aaron’s face.

Aaron says nothing, just pops the cap on the lube and coats his hand generously. They’re practiced movements, muscle memory, and Robert’s mouth waters at the prospect of what’s to come. Neither he nor Aaron are particularly one-sided when it comes to fucking, neither caring who gets off where as long as they both do — but there’s something intoxicating about Aaron in him, over him, _everywhere_ that Robert can’t ever get enough of.

“Turn around,” Aaron says, nudging Robert’s legs. He’s slipped off of Robert’s thighs, freeing Robert enough that he can turn over. “If you come…”

Aaron leaves the threat hanging, and Robert can’t help the shiver. He’s inclined enough to do it anyway, just to see what Aaron will do, but he’s startled out of the thought by the shock of cold lube dribbling down between his cheeks.

“Fuck,” Robert curses.

Aaron sounds amused. “Stop thinking so obviously.”

Robert grins into his hand, then sucks in a breath as Aaron drags his fingers through the lube, presses hot and tight against Robert’s hole. He’s careful, gentle, and it’s not what Robert _wants_. Aaron doesn’t care; he settles back over Robert’s legs, suit jacket brushing tantalizingly against Robert’s skin. It’s a stark reminder that Aaron’s still dressed, that he’s doing it because Robert asked, because it turns him on to be clothed while Robert’s naked and open beneath him.

It’s turns _Robert_ on.

“Aaron, fuck, come _on_.”

Aaron’s fingers still. Robert squirms, dick sliding against the sheets and gets a sharp slap to the back of his thigh. “Stop.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Robert curses again, feels his dick leak. “Aaron.”

“What?” Aaron says, voice close enough to Robert’s ear that it startles him. He presses against Robert’s back, his dick nestled in the curve of Robert’s arse.

Robert groans, sinks further into the sheets, fists clenched around their pillows. His skin tingles with want, his dick pressed painfully between his body and the mattress, Aaron’s weight an added pressure. Aaron’s arms bracket Robert’s shoulders, his breath hot in Robert’s ear. Robert takes a breath, drags the word up from somewhere deep. “ _Please_.”

Robert will beg for Aaron, will ask him, want him, give him everything. It’s _Aaron_.

“I’ve got you,” Aaron says, confident and sure. He shifts back, coarse fabric a delicious drag against Robert’s back. This time Aaron’s fingers slide against warm lube, teasing Robert’s hole gently until he gives enough for Aaron to slip a finger inside. The pressure is perfect, everything, and Robert presses back against Aaron’s hand, wants more, just wants.

Aaron’s free hand rests against the base of Robert’s spine, holds him steady.

Robert’s skin feels like it’s on fire. They usually take their time with foreplay, Aaron likes nothing more than to open Robert up carefully and slowly. He does it now, drives Robert to distraction, to desperation with how slowly he fingers Robert open.

Robert grinds his dick into the mattress, grits his teeth against the burn of Aaron’s fingers, the _want_. “Come _on_.”

Aaron snorts, twists his fingers _just so_ as he pushes in and Robert feels the press against his prostate, the shot of _holy fuck_ that thrums through his body. He bites the curve of his elbow to keep from shouting out loud, relishes the drag of his hips against the bed. Aaron keeps up the pace, brushes constantly over that same bundle of nerves, putting Robert on edge. His fingernails clench painfully against the sheets, and he relishes the shiver down his spine, tries to get through the need, the  _want_ , to come. 

Aaron pulls out, leaving Robert empty and desperate. He looks back over his shoulder, opens his mouth to tell Aaron to get the fuck on with it and freezes. Aaron’s a mess, still fucking clothed, but he’s smirking at Robert like he knows exactly what he’s doing, eyes bright, lubing up his cock and just — Robert’s never wanted anyone like this.

Slowly, obviously, Aaron guides his dick to Robert’s arse, presses a hand to the base of his spine. Robert drops his head to the pillows, chest heaving as Aaron pushes in. He takes his time, drives Robert crazy with how desperately he wants Aaron to bottom out.

Aaron’s dick is thick and Robert feels full, loves how all-consuming it is when Aaron fucks him like this, when he’s everywhere, everything. It’s as slow and careful as Aaron’s done everything else, but Robert’s on a knife’s edge, wants to _come_ and he presses back, urges Aaron to sink into him.

Aaron's chest presses to Robert's back, and Robert can’t breathe, feels his body sing with the need to move. The rhythm is slow, sure, and even though it’s nowhere near enough to make Robert come, it’s everything Robert wants; Aaron’s dick thick and hot, Aaron’s hands on his arms, his back, in his hair. Aaron’s body, Aaron’s smell, Aaron, Aaron, _Aaron_.

Robert’s panting, hips grinding into the mattress with every thrust, every drag. Aaron shifts, changes the angle and oh, _oh_ —

“Don’t come,” Aaron warns, even as he brushes against Robert’s prostate over and over. Robert feels boneless, crazy, noises punched from his throat that he doesn’t even recognise. His dick is hard, balls heavy, and he wants to come, wants Aaron to touch him, to get him off.

Aaron’s dick drives Robert further up the bed, the force of their fucking making enough of a noise that Robert’s surprised the whole pub can’t hear them. The thought that they can, that Aaron’s fucking Robert hard enough that people _know_ — his dick throbs, he can feel the crest of his orgasm _right there_ and he’s fisting the sheets. “Aaron, I can’t, I—”

“Robert,” Aaron snaps, warning, and stills.

Robert lets out a frustrated curse, punches the pillow next to his head. “I’ll fucking — Aaron, I swear if you don’t—”

Aaron’s strong, Robert knows this, has seen it on many occasion, but it’s something different to feel it. Robert feels weightless for a second, out of it enough that he doesn’t know what’s happened until Aaron’s sat back on his heels, Robert seated firmly in his lap, one of the pillows dragged halfway up the bed, still in Robert’s grip. Robert sinks onto Aaron’s dick, so deep Robert almost comes then and there, but Aaron’s fingers are wrapped around the base, keeping Robert from coming. Robert sobs, drops his head back onto Aaron’s shoulder.

 _“Aaron_.”

“S’okay,” Aaron tells him, sucking at the skin of Robert’s neck. “You can hold out for me a little longer.”

Robert wants to refuse, wants to let go and come, but he just nods, nails digging into Aaron’s thigh.

“That’s it.” Aaron rolls his hips, cups Robert’s throat with his hand. It’s — Robert’s letting out breathy little _ah, ah, ah_ noises as Aaron gets purchase against the mattress, thrusts up into Robert like their rhythm wasn’t broken. Robert’s thighs strain with the effort of staving off his orgasm, his dick bobbing painfully against his stomach, smearing come against his skin. He’s desperate, so fucking close, and he knows Aaron is too; he can feel it in the twitch of his fingers against Robert’s jaw, the tremble of his body, the breathy moans in Robert’s ear.

“Let me come,” Robert bites out, because he can’t keep his mouth shut, because he wants this, because he wants Aaron to let him have it.

“No,” Aaron says, because of course he does. There’s no malice to his tone, he’s testing Robert, drawing it out until Robert snaps or until Robert gives in. Robert knows which it will be, what it will always be with Aaron; he waits, clenches his teeth against the urge to come. Aaron groans Robert’s name low in his throat, shifts _just so_ and his dick rubs against the bundle of nerves he’s been using to drive Robert insane. Robert sobs, eyes stinging, and he’s never felt like _this_ , never wanted and craved and been so fucking desperate for anything the way he is for this.

“Aaron.” Robert sobs his name more then speaks it, nails digging into Aaron’s thighs so hard he’s going to leave bruises.

Aaron says nothing for a while, just keeps rolling his hips, mouthing at Robert’s neck. He’s close, Robert knows, so fucking close. He grunts into Robert’s skin as his dick pulses, as his hips keep making small thrusts.

Robert feels on edge, weightless, like he’s _that close_ and now he’ll get it, now Aaron will drag him over, will give him what he wants. “Aaron.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron soothes, sounding breathless. His fingers tightened on Robert’s neck during his orgasm, and he hasn’t loosened his grip any. Robert’s entire focused is narrowed down to that grip, on Aaron’s free hand which brushes down Robert’s stomach, _right there_.

“Please,” Robert begs, rolling his hips, straining with the effort.

“Look at you.” Aaron’s voice is low, hot, and Robert doesn’t know what he must look like, doesn’t know what Aaron sees. “If anyone else could see you —”

There’s enough of a possessive hold on Aaron’s words that Robert knows it would never happen, but the thought that someone else would see him like this, would see what Aaron does to him, the way Aaron undoes him is enough. Robert can’t hold it, can’t keep from coming, not with Aaron’s mouth on his neck, the brush of his knuckles against Robert’s shaft, the softening dick still filling him. Robert crashes over the edge of his orgasm, body shuddering in Aaron’s hold, vision whiting out.

When he comes too, boneless and exhausted, Aaron’s stretched him out on the bed, running a flannel gently over his dick. It’s over sensitive, makes Robert twitch away. Aaron runs a hand through Robert’s hair in apology as he tosses the flannel over the side of the bed.

“Hey.”

It’s soft and kind, the parts of Aaron that Robert’s never deserved, but wants to, so desperately. Robert doesn’t think he can make his mouth work, so he grabs hold of Aaron — still wearing his suit jacket —  and tugs him weakly. Aaron’s smile is blinding and amused, but he slides closer. He’s tucked himself back in his trousers, Robert notes abstractly, as he rolls over, nose smashed against Aaron’s shoulder. Aaron wraps an arm around him, presses a kiss to Robert’s temple.

“I love you,” Aaron says, words so soft Robert might have missed them if they weren’t spoken into his ear.

“Too,” Robert slurs, nonsensically.

Aaron’s adept at understanding Robert when he’s coming down off of an orgasm, and hums contentedly. Robert’s half-asleep when Aaron nuzzles at his cheek, kisses his lips gently. It’s soft, perfect and so _Aaron_ , that Robert’s chest is warm as he drifts off, comfortable and safe in Aaron’s hold.

**Author's Note:**

> see? literally 4k of PORN. 
> 
> i'm asexual and sex isn't my strong point, so i hope it works for you!


End file.
